Eventual Salvation
by ThoughtsInTheWind
Summary: Elena's humanity may be off, but Damon's making sure that won't be for long. Whether the switch goes on nice and slow, or not, our favorite Salvatore is determined to bring back the girl he loves. The only question is, how long will it take until Elena's salvation?
1. Chapter 1

**Read this note, please.** I know what I said about not knowing when I'd be able to post a story again. But I was re-watching 4x15 recently, and the humanity-off scene really struck a chord in me. So, now you have this! Right now I'm leaning towards keeping it a one-shot, though I did write a full second chapter, and a small chunk of a third. If the response merits it, I'll expand.

* * *

Damon sits on the empty side of his bed, watching Elena sleep.

Her body is snuggled under the covers, brown hair fanned out over his pillow. She's wearing one of his John Varvatos shirts, along with a pair of shorts from the stock of clothes she has at the boarding house. The sight of his clothing on her makes him smile, despite the generally fucked-up, extremely regrettable nature of the whole situation.

He has no idea what will happen to her now that her humanity is off, and add to that, her house is now burned down, as per her wishes. Damon can't deny the gravity of the memories they had there, and he sighs at the loss of the porch where he and Elena shared such significant moments.

Pinching the bridge of his nose due to stress, Damon curses under his breath and turns his attention back to the girl in his bed. He has never prayed to God much, but now he's willing to do and say anything, just to ensure that she'll be okay. He knows that if something happens to her because of Jeremy's death, he won't survive it.

His hand reaches out to touch her, and he remembers what he did so long ago. His fingers repeat the same motion, ghosting down over her cheek with the slightest tremor in them. When her own hand reaches out to trap his in a slight grip, that's when Damon's heart breaks.

It shatters for the girl in front of him.

Internally, he wants to cry for her - for the girl who has lost everything, and for her whom he's grown to love above even his own life.

Still, though his heart is breaking, it is also patching itself up with hope. After all, she did touch him.

She reached out for his fingers, and that's enough fodder for him to go on. Maybe, against all odds, her humanity isn't as gone as they all think. He hopes that somewhere inside that chest of hers, some emotion still exists, even if it's just a few small tatters here and there.

For him those tatters are important. The tatters are a sign that all isn't lost, that his Elena isn't gone, only repressed. Of course, while he could love her even if she killed thousands with her switch off, he would not allow her to lose herself. He would not allow her to become the empty shell he once was before she saved him.

"How fucking poetic," he ends up saying to himself, with a sardonic smile on his face. "You saved me before, and made my switch go on again. I guess it's time for me to return the favor, sweetheart."

She squirms slightly, and Damon shuts up, not wishing to wake her. Moving silently, he stands and walks to her side of the bed. He kneels, laying a soft kiss on her forehead. Along with it, Damon whispers a verbal promise.

"I swear to you, Elena. I _will_ find a way for you to be happy again."

* * *

Soon enough, the elder Salvatore ends up downstairs, his feet heading straight for the liquor cabinet. Right now, he needs the burn. He needs to feel something, and remind himself that he has to be strong for Elena. Seeing her so broken and blank has destroyed something inside him, and he isn't keen on that sensation.

More than anything, he wants the old Elena back, the Elena who had emotion, and enough nerve to fight for him when he didn't even think he was worth it. Of course, the pragmatic part of him is already coming up with ways to soothe her once the grief comes gushing back.

Damon takes a sip, relishing the way the bourbon coats his throat.

It fills him with a slow-spreading warmth, completely unnecessary, but not entirely unwelcome. Holding the glass at eye-level, he stares at the blue orbs reflected in the crystal. For the longest moment, he finds himself lost in his own face, until his ears pick up the uncertain cadence of his brother's voice.

"I'm worried about what'll happen to her."

"So am I." Damon takes another sip. "But if I hadn't told her to turn it off, I don't think she would've been able to cope. Jeremy was the last of her family. His death would've killed her too, and I won't fucking accept that."

Stefan exhales, and it's a tired expulsion of breath. "It just makes me uneasy, you know? Look at you and me. It took us decades to come back to ourselves whenever we turned off our switches. I needed Lexi to get my humanity back, and you needed Elena to get back yours."

Damon sets his glass down on a table, crossing his arms. He locks eyes with Stefan, determined blue meeting a sea of anxious green. The two brothers stay silent, each waiting to hear the other's words.

The elder of the two breaks the stalemate first. "Elena's not alone, Stefan. You had Lexi and I had her, but Elena has both of us. We'll try to bring her back nice and slow, but if that doesn't work, you can be sure of one thing. Even if she hates me for it, I'll bring back her humanity, one way or another."

Stefan nods, almost imperceptibly. An agreement has clearly been made, however wordless it is. Damon turns to leave, but then is stopped by Stefan's hand on his shoulder.

"What is it?" he asks, spinning around.

"Damon, I need to say this to you. And I know you what you said earlier at her house, but you need to hear it."

Damon puts his hand on his brother's shoulder, just as he did on Elena's now-burnt porch. His voice is as gentle as it was then. "Stefan, you don't need to say it. I told you earlier, remember?_ I know._"

"I still think that you deserve to hear the words. And I'd like to say them."

"Okay then."

Stefan pauses for a second or two before he continues. "We've been through a lot, Damon. But I just want you to know that you matter to me, and I do care about you. I don't want to lose my elder brother."

A smile finds its way onto Damon's face, and he thinks he hasn't been this emotional in quite some time. In his head, he debates whether to hug Stefan or not, but soon he throws all his reservations out the window.

_Fuck everything, including my badass reputation. Stefan just admitted to caring about me._

Damon quickly extends his arms, and Stefan responds in less than a second. They haven't hugged each other like this since they were human, and the gravity of the moment isn't lost on either of the two. Damon pats Stefan's back before they separate, and both brothers bear smiles on their faces.

"I need to go to Elena now," Damon soon says, "but I do appreciate what you said. And don't you forget this. I care about you too. Like it or not, you're stuck with me until the sun plows into this planet and kills us both."

"I'm sure we'll also be stuck with each other in heaven, unfortunately."

Damon laughs. "I wear too much black to go to heaven, Stefan, and you have a motorcycle. Something tells me God isn't too fond of vampire bikers. But if it's the train to hell we end up in, I'll make sure we're in the same carriage, along with a supply of blood bags for the ride."

"Thanks for the assurance, Damon," Stefan says, chuckling.

"You're welcome, brother."

No words are said after that, and Stefan watches Damon climb up the stairs at vampire speed. Truth be told, he has no idea what will happen now that Elena's switch is off, but all he can do is hold on to hope. He finishes the nearly empty-glass of Damon's bourbon.

It seems fitting, considering the progress they just made.

* * *

Damon changes into his nightclothes, doing so as quickly as he can. Usually he sleeps with much less clothing, but now he's in black drawstring pants, leaving his upper body bare. As he climbs into bed with Elena, he's reminded of the sire bond, but he doesn't really care anymore.

At this point, he just wants to hold her as closely as he can, sire bond be damned. Besides, this is a special circumstance.

He knows she needs him more than ever.

He slips under the covers carefully. Elena has evidently turned in her sleep, her back facing him now. He pulls her just a tiny bit closer, but her resulting movement surprises the heck out of him. Before Damon can do anything, Elena has already turned again, both of them now facing each other.

She snuggles securely into him, burying her nose against the skin of his chest. She whispers a quick hi to him, and it would have been inaudible if he were human. She follows that up with, "Please go to sleep, Damon."

Ruled almost by instinct now, he wraps his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He whispers goodnight, as he's done so many times before, and then closes his eyes. Once more that night, hope blooms in his heart.

Damon knows it will probably be hard to get her back, but at least he's sure of her eventual salvation.

To him, that's all that really matters.

* * *

**A/N** So, expand? And I'd love to hear your thoughts! Thanks also to the six welcome-back PMs I received for the most recent chapter I posted. You know who you are, awesome peeps, and I love you beyond words.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N **I couldn't keep it a one-shot, what with all the reviews. They've put a ridiculous, pansy-ass smile on my face. I adore you guys, and thank God I prepped some chapters, huh? I bring you the second chapter! Oh, and I forgot to put a disclaimer last time. Standard disclaimers apply, I don't own the characters or The Vampire Diaries as a whole. Only the plot of this story is mine.

* * *

Elena knows she didn't sleep alone last night.

The bed has a small depression from where Damon's body rested, and his scent is too strong for her nose ignore.

With each inflow of breath, her lungs fill with his unforgettable smell, that unique combination of ice and sea-spray which she's never been able to verbalize before now. With her switch off though, she doesn't care much. It's just his smell, the one that has invaded her nose countless times before.

For a moment, Elena wonders why she can put a name to his scent now. It's as if being mostly emotionless has kicked her mind into overdrive, her intellect trying to make up for her lack of human sentiment.

Rubbing her eyes, she stares up at the ceiling for nearly half a minute. She has no trouble picking out the scratch patterns on the wood, thanks to her keen vampire eyesight. She stays completely still for all of fifteen seconds, strangely dazed.

Then, just as quickly as she went still, Elena's body moves in a blur of speed.

Her feet lead her straight to Damon's bathroom, where she strips completely bare.

Elena may not feel much of anything, but her mind still remembers how she loved his tub.

* * *

By the time Elena ambles down the stairs at a leisurely pace, the boarding house is already alive with the chatter of conversation. She can hear Stefan talking to Caroline, with the occasional interjection from Damon. She focuses on shutting out their words, and then heads straight towards the kitchen without even saying hello.

As she walks, Elena's fingers tap on the buckle of her belt, worn as if her dark-wash jeans weren't tight enough already. Like last time, she's wearing another of Damon's shirts. Her tapping fingers play some tune, of which she doesn't even remember the title.

Once she reaches the kitchen counter near the stove, she reaches upwards, opening the cupboard.

Elena strains slightly then, standing on her toes to grab the box of coffee packets near the back. Ever since she started spending lots of time at the Salvatore boarding house, the brothers had taken to storing food for her sake.

The food was now unnecessary, but Elena wanted to use coffee to clear her head.

For some strange reason, she felt as if her mind was equal parts sharp and foggy this morning. She intended to use caffeine to reconcile the uncomfortable contradiction.

"Something you need, sweetheart?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," she says, turning to face the source of the voice. "Reach for the coffee, would you?"

There's a second or two of hesitation on Damon's part, before he complies with her request. She rolls her eyes at the way he's observing her while she makes the beverage.

She says his words right back to him. "Something you need, sweetheart?"

"Nothing at all, baby. And by the way, nice shirt there."

"Knew you'd say that. Hope you don't mind?"

His voice is all confidence and verbal silk. "Oh no, not at all."

Elena knows he's hiding something behind the velvet of his words. She can't bring herself to pay any mind to it, so she just stares right at him as she stirs her coffee. Damon's eyes go right back to being wary, and her heart races at the focused way he's looking at her.

Humanity off or not, she can't deny how attractive he is right now.

To her enormous annoyance, the attraction is reminding her of other things, inserting unbidden thoughts into her head. After all, turning off the switch never tampered with her capacity for recall.

She can still remember everything between them, in clear detail. She can remember the first time they met on a dark town road, up to the sinful way his hips moved as he drove himself inside her.

From the heat building in Damon's eyes, he's remembering everything just as well.

She places the coffee cup on the counter. It's the beginning of their wordless standoff.

Elena takes a step forward. She notices his hands twitch.

Four breaths pass without them doing anything. The heat in his eyes blazes into an inferno, and her fangs itch to come down at the sight. There's no longer anything conscious or rational about what's happening to them. In this moment, only their shared connection rules, not his desire for restraint, nor her glaring lack of humanity. Switches are the farthest thing from both their minds.

Another breath passes, and the air goes heavy with tension. It's as if a steel cable is pulled taut between them, holding the two apart.

Damon counts to four in his head, the man inside him warring with the vampire.

Before he can reach five, the cable breaks completely. Maybe it's the sight of his clothing on her, he thinks.

"Fuck all of this," he says, rushing to meet Elena in a violent kiss.

From then on, it's all hands tangling in hair, tongues desperate for contact, and lips clashing like swords in a fight. Damon and Elena act like two people frighteningly starved, each other the only source of repast. All around them, the world is breaking down into nothing at all, disintegrating into pieces until only the two of them exist.

With each movement of his lips, he's shattering the ice around Elena's heart, breaking it into thousands of shards. Just then, her mind comes up with a more appropriate metaphor for what's happening.

In her head, Elena imagines that her heart has a suit of armor, and now it has a chink from Damon's kisses.

The longer their lips are fused, the larger the chink grows, until it becomes a gaping hole. Elena's heart clenches, and she grabs on to the collar of Damon's shirt. Her fingers easily cause the collar to rip under her strength, and the sound shocks him into stopping.

Just as quickly as their frenzy started, it ends.

The gaping hole in Elena's armor disappears, and tendrils of ice wrap themselves around her heart again. She rushes back to her coffee at vampire speed and picks up the cup.

"What's happening to me?" Elena asks herself, in a voice too soft for even Damon to hear.

She spares one last glance at the vampire in question, takes a breath to compose herself, then walks through the archway leading to the living room.

* * *

As soon as Elena plops down onto the couch, Stefan stops his conversation with Caroline. If either of them heard what happened in the kitchen, both vampires are smart enough not to make any comment.

Rolling her eyes at the sudden silence, Elena sips on her caffeine, and makes a dismissive wave with her free hand.

"Oh, don't stop on my account," she says. "Caroline, you were asking Stefan about me, right? Stefan, answer her."

Elena watches as her friend's eyes go wide, shock written across Caroline's features. For his part, Stefan's face is just as wary as his elder brother's was. It fills Elena with annoyance all over again. She thinks about how their obsessive concern is only making her feel restricted. It seems thinking has become her favorite activity now. It's as if the lack of her humanity opened up an intellectual fount she never much accessed before.

"God, what I wouldn't give to go back to kissing Damon," she thinks, shaking her head.

Stefan and Caroline still aren't speaking.

"Think of the devil and the devil shall come," Elena soon says, noticing Damon come through the archway too.

Like her, he's also got a drink in hand, though his isn't strictly a one-serving beverage. No, he's holding a full bottle of bourbon, ostensibly from some kitchen cabinet she's never opened before. Looking passively at Caroline, and then a little more meaningfully at his brother, Damon chugs the bourbon down with his collar ripped and all.

"What happened to your shirt?" Caroline asks.

"Sorry. He and I got a little heated," Elena says, smirking. She pats the space beside her on the couch. "Sit by me, Damon. I'm all lonely, and the two of them are boring me right now."

The elder Salvatore complies without a quip, glancing at her for only the briefest of moments. There's a world of things unsaid between the two of them. Damon doesn't say much once he sits, exchanging a quick look with his younger brother.

Then, he takes another swig of his liquor, and this time Caroline rolls her eyes. She's never been much of a day-drinker.

Stefan chooses to just stare at Elena, clearly evaluating her behavior.

"What is it now, Stefan?"

"Nothing."

"Oh come on," she says. "You're surprised at what I said, aren't you? That Damon and I got a little heated?"

The green-eyed Salvatore doesn't speak, and Elena continues.

"In our defense, we _are_ together. And this stupid sire bond thing has put both of us on eggshells, trying to stop ourselves. Guess stopping just got too hard, and so the dam of restraint broke in a gush. Besides, rationally, I shouldn't even have stopped myself in the first place. Your brother's an excellent kisser. Much better than you, really."

"Elena, enough," Damon says, his voice acquiring a hard edge to it.

Elena faces him, her eyes shining with determination. "Or what, you'll send me to my room like a child?"

"I said enough! I want you to stop talking right now."

His words successfully quell her newfound defiance, and Elena goes silent, as does everyone else. She says nothing as she looks straight at Damon, communicating without the need for a single sound. Her eyes are accusing as she looks at him, shouting a recrimination that rings only in her head.

_Do you see what you've done, Damon? You've used the sire bond to put a muzzle on me._

She sees him cringe under her gaze. Then, she grabs her cup of coffee, and heads up to a spare bedroom.

* * *

Elena has no idea how long she's been staring at the ceiling of her chosen room, but she doesn't give a shit either way. She can't even talk to herself because of Damon's command, and her cup of coffee has been long since finished.

With the empty cup now resting on a nightstand, her thoughts are her only company.

To her extreme displeasure, her overactive mind begins telling her unwelcome things.

Various episodes of her life flit into her head, appearing in no particular order. Sometimes, she remembers a set of chronological memories from a particular time range. The recollections pass through her mind like a autobiographical movie. Other times, her mind feeds her random memory slices, each slice coming from a different time in her life.

She remembers the first time she got a C in school.

Then, she recalls her mom couldn't cook, even if her life depended on it.

She remembers seeing Stefan at the cemetery, her leg bleeding as she looked at him.

Worst of all, she remembers Jeremy, diving off the dock at the lake house.

Best of all, she remembers the tenderness Damon displayed the first time they made love.

It's that memory which causes her armor to get a chink again.

Elena grabs the nearest pillow and puts it over her head, groaning.

Her groan pierces the veil of quiet in the room, and it's enough to snap her mind back to recent events. Namely, she remembers the way he shut her up with a single order via the sire bond. It fills her with anger and helplessness. If she's honest, thinking of Damon also fills her with some other feeling she can't put her finger on.

The unknown feeling is mellowing her down. Just like Damon's kiss, it's shattering the ice around her heart again.

Thankfully, before it can make too much progress, the anger she feels comes back in full force. The vampire in her is queen of the castle again, and Elena represses the mellowing feeling. She imprisons it with dozens of chains, ones made of the darkest things that exists inside her.

Before long, she's back to her enraged state, her fangs threatening to escape her gums. She glances up at the ceiling again, and the focus bids a thought into her head. It delights the vampire part of her, the only part that's in effect at this moment.

Her fangs come out, and she laughs.

It's no longer the laugh of a carefree human girl, nor the laugh of a woman in love.

In all truth, the laugh sounded like Katherine's, and it only increases Elena's resolve to execute her new plan.

She looks once at the open door, remembering that she isn't alone in the boarding house. As she gets out of the room and heads to one with a window, she thinks of the one crucial caveat in Damon's command as her sire.

Just before Elena opens the window and jumps out to the ground below, a fanged smile forms on her face.

Yes, Damon had forbidden her from speaking, but that didn't mean she couldn't feed.

* * *

**A/N** Seems Elena has plans, eh? Off I go to edit the third chapter, and hope for more of your reviews to help shape this story. Tell me your thoughts!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N **This chapter gave me the hardest time, you guys. The trouble I had to go through, balancing everything, I can't even tell you.

* * *

Fifteen minutes after Elena's hasty escape, only then does Damon notice that something isn't right. Once his senses alert him to the glaring lack of Elena at the boarding house, he no longer has time to debate whether his use of the sire bond was the right thing to do.

He only knows that she cannot be unleashed on the town, especially not with her humanity switched off.

Unlike him though, neither Stefan nor Caroline seem to have noticed anything amiss.

"What's the matter, Damon? You look a little off."

Damon sets his bottle of bourbon down on the living room's center table. "Damn right I'm a little off, Stefan. Fuck, how could I have been so stupid to leave her alone!"

"You need to calm down."

"Fuck that. Elena's not in this house, and I want her found before she does anything. "

Damon doesn't wait for a reply. In an instant, he's already fetched his leather jacket, intending to scour all of Mystic Falls. Internally, he holds the most self-deprecating conversation he's had in a long time.

_Goddamn it, I should have known Elena would lash out. Why did I even fucking shut her up? I shouldn't have done that. Shit. God, if you'd care to listen to me, please stop her somehow. I don't want her to do anything that she'll eventually regret. Oh, forget this crap. All this head talk isn't doing me good. Jesus, Elena, don't you dare do anything. I'm coming to get you sweetheart, just wait for me. _

Damon snarls, equal parts angry at himself and worried about Elena's next actions.

* * *

The raven-haired Salvatore blows into the Mystic Grill, making a beeline for the bar. By the set of his face, it's clear that he doesn't give a fuck about the other people in the premises. Through peripheral vision, he notices Bonnie in one of the booths, eating a burger.

While he sorely wants to talk, and maybe tell her not to go batshit crazy, all he cares about right now is Elena.

He taps on the wooden bar-top, getting Matt's attention. "Donovan, have you seen Elena?"

"No, why?"

"Because I'm looking for her, and that's all you need to know." Damon brings out his phone. "You've got my number, so if she shows up here, call me or Stefan right away. Otherwise I'll kill you myself."

"Okay, no need for threats. Something wrong?"

The forced, empty smile on Damon's face is just shy of a scowl. "That remains to be seen. Call me."

With that, the agitated vampire leaves, not sparing anyone another glance. As it is, he's too stressed to focus on anything else outside his current mission. To his relief, he soon picks up the faint scent of honeysuckle that he's grown to know. Hope flares up in his gut. It's the first real lead, and Damon feels fucking grateful for it.

His immediate action is to call Stefan. His brother answers with a frantic, "Anything?"

"I'm outside the Grill now, and I can smell her. It's faint, but workable." Damon pauses. "How about you guys?"

"Caroline checked the area near the high school, nothing. I'm here near the town's border, and so far nothing as well. You follow the trail you've got, and if you need help, call."

"Got it," Damon says, already walking as he hangs up.

* * *

With an ease born of long practice, Damon follows Elena's scent, careful to keep it separate from the influx of other smells around him. He's also careful to keep his pace brisk, but nowhere near his supernatural speed.

There are still humans around him anyway, and he knows he must keep his cover.

To his horror and reasonable expectation, her honeysuckle and rose scent leads to a small alley near a coffee shop. Though he's crazily hoping for the best, Damon is prepared to deal with the worst, including the possibility of dead bodies, and/or Elena on a blood high.

"I'll never shut you up again," he mutters to himself, once his eyes land on her.

As he pretty much anticipated, she's feeding on some young-looking jock, clearly enjoying the whole experience. Given the nature of what she's doing, Damon feels a little jealous actually.

What he wouldn't give to feed with her in this moment.

He takes a few cautious strides towards his target. As his feet take him closer to Elena, his ears pick up the slowing of the jock's heart, and he knows the human is in the danger zone.

"Sweetheart," Damon says, "stop it. You're gonna kill him."

Elena disengages for just a moment to glance back at Damon, before going right back to her earlier activity. It's evident that his words won't stop her. As if to spite him, she actually drinks more forcefully, taking in huge gulps of blood. By his own estimates, the human will be dead in just eleven short seconds if he doesn't do anything.

Still, some part of him doesn't want to use the sire bond again. Damon doesn't think he can take another accusing, recriminating look from her. On the other hand, he knows the sire bond is the most effective option.

It would achieve the result he desired quicker than anything else.

Despite that knowledge, Damon remains hesitant to use his power, so he decides on another measure. Taking his nail, he gouges it into his neck, prompting thick rivulets of crimson to flow out. As her sire, he knows his blood will always be more appealing to her than any random person's.

Less than a second later, she's forgotten the human completely, her teeth buried in him instead.

"Oh God yes," he says, half turned on and half relieved.

Before Damon can properly situate himself, she's already pressed him against an alley wall, and her enthusiastic feeding wreaks havoc on his self-control. Unlike the last time, there isn't a trace of hesitation inside her anymore, only a churning need fiercer than he's ever seen her display.

To the vampire in him, the whole situation is fucking glorious.

Unwilling to stifle her, Damon lets Elena drink at her own pace, maddeningly delirious with his own arousal. By this point, he's lost sight of everything outside their little bubble. To him, only their blood connection exists, nicely matched by the eager melding of their bodies. For a moment, he actually contemplates shredding their clothing, and then having Elena right in the mucky dimness of the alley.

He would've done just that, save for the sudden change in how she's drinking from him.

Seemingly in the space of a heartbeat, Elena's tight grip on him slackens, and she slows her pulls on his neck. Fingers unclenching, she releases his jacket from her hold, relaxing her body in the process.

Add to that, one free hand snakes up to his jaw, cradling it in a gesture of terrifying affection. It's a departure from her previously savage feeding, but Damon is too groggy to investigate the change in tempo.

And then, as if she couldn't surprise him further, she pulls away voluntarily and runs.

* * *

"What the fuck was that about?" Damon whispers to himself, trying to catch his breath, crouched down with his back against the wall.

Second by second, he can feel the punctured skin of his neck starting to heal, a pleasant warmth and tingling left behind from his encounter with Elena. Scanning his memories, he concludes that in his almost two centuries, he's never known someone who reacted that way while drinking another vampire's blood.

Thankfully, the ring of his phone brings him back to familiar territory.

"What is it, Stefan?"

"I got her. I'm bringing her back to the house. What happened to Elena? She looks really confused right now."

Damon groans. "Can't explain on the phone. I'll be home soon, just need a quick pick-me-up."

"Why? Did something come up?"

"I'll explain when I get there. Make fucking sure she doesn't go out again."

"Oh, I don't think she'll do that." He hears Stefan take a breath. "Like I said, Damon. She looks really confused about something. What on Earth happened?"

Damon doesn't bother to answer, choosing to hang up instead. After administering a quick dose of his blood to the jock in the alley, plus a precautionary bout of compulsion, the elder Salvatore goes on his own hunt for a rejuvenating meal. It doesn't take long before he finds someone to sink his fangs in.

He drinks just enough to tide himself over - just until the next time he needs to distract the girl he loves.

* * *

It's a quarter to four by the time Damon walks through the front door of the boarding house. Elena is seated on the couch beside Stefan, while Caroline is pacing worriedly near the fireplace. Of the four, the elder Salvatore actually seems the one least affected by Elena's escape debacle.

Personally, Damon doesn't know if it's just because of his high from being sipped on. He takes Stefan's place on the couch, gingerly pushing his brother aside. He quickly tips Elena's face toward him. "You okay?"

Elena just looks at him as if he's stupid for asking the question. Then he notices something else brewing in her chocolate eyes. When she stays silent, he remembers what he did earlier, and scrambles to undo his command.

"You can talk now."

Elena scoffs. "How nice of you, Damon."

"I didn't mean to do that, I swear. You were just so different. I didn't know what else to do."

She doesn't speak after that, and Damon wonders whether his command had other unforeseen side effects. Turning her to face him, the raven-haired vampire stares at the girl he loves. His eyes beg her to say something.

At his unspoken request, Damon catches a debate going on in her eyes. He waits patiently for what she plans to do, surprised when she envelops him in a sudden hug. It doesn't last long, only a few seconds, but it's enough to make him smile. He even detects an apologetic note in her embrace.

Aside from their kitchen lip-lock and her drinking from him, Damon thinks this hug is the best thing that's happened over the course of the entire day.

"I'm fine, so you can all stop worrying," she says then, standing to leave. She's able to reach the staircase with no problem, all until she feels his hand on her arm. She whirls to face him.

"I need you to come with me, Elena."

"Where and why?"

"You don't need to know where and why. Just come with me. It'll do you good."

"And what exactly are you planning?"

"Who says I'm planning anything? I just want you to get out a bit." Damon backtracks quickly. "Well, aside from your random snack in the alley, that is. What could go wrong?"

"Damon, I don't need this intervention you're cooking up. I'm full, and I'm fine. Please leave me alone."

"Elena..."

"Stop it. I'd like some space to think, and I can't do that with you breathing down my neck."

"Me? I'm not breathing down your neck," Damon says, his eyes glinting teasingly.

"Is that so?"

"Yes it's so. I'm a vampire, remember? Breathing's unnecessary."

Elena huffs. "Not funny. Just leave me alone."

For the next second and a half, Damon mentally debates whether to press his wishes. Once he really gets a look at Elena's tired face, he decides to concede. Shrugging in defeat, he lets her climb up the stairs without further comment.

By the time he's seated back down on the couch, Stefan becomes the new focal point of his interest.

"You owe me an explanation," the younger Salvatore says. "What happened in that alley?"

Damon repeats his earlier shrug. "Nothing much, to be honest. I caught her feeding, distracted her by gouging into my neck, and then you know how that goes. She didn't puke out my blood this time, so that's a win."

Caroline injects herself into the conversation, arms crossed and eyes blazing with annoyance. "How are you so calm about all this, Damon? She's a baby vampire with her humanity switch off, she fed on someone in a random alley, and you're fine with it. What's wrong with you?"

"Blondie, let me tell you something. I've been through this before. She's showing the same signs I did."

"What are you talking about, brother?" Stefan asks, pitching in again.

Damon sighs in response, standing to fetch a glass for his liquor. Pouring the familiar caramel-colored liquid into the crystal, he retakes his seat on the couch, sipping his drink calmly. By the shaking of Caroline's head, it's evident she doesn't approve of his light-handed approach to the situation.

He sets the half-full glass beside him, careful to lay it on a somewhat flat part of the couch. "Ease up, okay? I've got this under control. Something happened in that alley which I can't explain, but I'm seeing the right signs. You two may not see it yet, but the old Elena's coming back sooner than you think."

"How do you know that?" Caroline asks.

Damon chuckles. "Did you forget what I just said? I've been through this before. I know what it's like when the switch starts coming on, bit by bit. Remember back when I was a worse douche than I am now? I swung wildly from being pretty okay, to being a complete ass. Now look at how Elena's vacillating."

The light of understanding begins to dawn in Stefan's eyes. He doesn't speak at all for quite some time, processing the information and occasionally scratching his head, too. When he finally breaks the silence, his words are heavy with hope and potential.

"You think she's already starting to fight it?"

Damon raises his glass in a toast. "Right you are, brother. We play this right, and she'll be back to her old, super-feeling self before you know it. Good news is, I think I know how to help things along."

"And what's your plan?"

"Guess you'll just have to trust me, Stefan."

"Is there anything I can do?" Caroline asks.

Damon finishes his glass of bourbon. "As a matter of fact, yes. Check in with Donovan and make sure Bonnie hasn't totally gone off the rails. Then, make sure your shoulder gets extra absorbent padding."

"Why?"

"Because, Blondie, when Elena's switch comes back on, with it comes every painful emotion inside her. She's gonna need all of us to help her deal with the bad stuff, so you better be ready."

"You're sure about this, Damon?" Stefan asks, his green eyes filled with turmoil and worry.

"Of course I'm sure," Damon says. "If anyone can bring her back, it will be yours truly. So just bear with me as I execute my plan, and then help me deal with the aftermath."

The conversation stops after that, and the elder Salvatore quickly makes for the stairs. Stefan and Caroline are left wondering what exactly he's planning, but there's not much they can do except cooperate for now.

* * *

**A/N** So, tell me. Did I do good, or could something have been improved?


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N** Holy shit, you guys, how long has it been? But I'm back, to help all of us tide over this other freaking hiatus.

* * *

Elena locks herself in one of the nameless guest rooms of the boarding house, uneasy from the events in the alley. For some reason, drinking from Damon has unbalanced her, and now she teeters between aloofness and sentiment.

Alone and silent, she intellectualizes the situation, letting her mind take over the processing of what happened. Her head reigning supreme, she's left with the objectivity of an outsider, assessing everything with no emotions attached.

Still, her mental overdrive poses a problem. With no feelings clouding her thoughts, Elena's mind keeps going back to one truth. It's clear as day to her, and undeniable, even if she wants it to be otherwise. To her, there's no use pretending.

There's no use trying to deny that even in her no-humanity state, Damon still affects her.

The epiphany's enough for her to doubt whether the switch really exists.

* * *

It's already late into the night by the time Elena emerges from her hideout. Where there wasn't before, her steps now have a cautious quality to them, as if she's tiptoeing on eggshells. Despite this new nervousness, she has no doubt as to her direction.

Straight and true, her feet lead her right to Damon's bedroom.

Before she can knock, or even formulate a reason for being there, he's already opened his door. Tonight he's wearing a furtive but expectant expression on his face, his blue eyes alert and his arms perfectly crossed.

(His muscles are more distracting than she'd like them to be.)

Elena can't bring herself to mind his advanced sensing of her, because she knows she can do the same. Emotions off or not, her capacity to sense him hasn't diminished. If anything, she's only gotten better at ferreting out his place, or noting his approach before he's even in front of her. If she's honest with herself, she and Damon can't really surprise each other anymore.

"Let me in," she says, dispassionate about her own words.

Damon doesn't mutter a single response, letting her in as she's requested. To Elena's chagrin, Damon's look changes from furtiveness to confidence, as if he's always known she would come to him in the end. She has no idea where his new optimism's from, but she lets the matter go.

Letting go seems to be her modus these days, anyway.

Busying herself with preparations for sleep, she changes into one of his shirts, as if his Varvatos is entirely her own. When she strips down to her boy shorts, she hears his hissed intake of breath, and smiles at his muted unease. To his credit, he doesn't let any other bit of him break rank.

Even when Elena climbs into his bed, Damon still doesn't say a thing. As she sinks into the soft mattress, her face scrunching in pleasure, he takes a moment to breathe her in. Oblivious to his act, Elena stretches her body, working out invisible kinks out of habit.

The softness adds a lulling comfort, at least until Damon pulls her close.

There's no trace of request in what he's done, as if it's totally his right to imprison her with his body.

(But if she's totally honest, it's not such a bad way to get detained.)

Elena locks gazes with Damon. His sudden tug now has them facing each other, locked in a barely-hidden battle of will. Not wishing to endure the intensity of his blue orbs, Elena closes her eyes and pretends to drift off.

Fully awake (at least in her head), she starts counting sheep. When she gets bored, she imagines staking the sheep - a gesture appropriate to her predatory nature, even if it is a bit ironic. Upon reaching 52 dead herbivores, she hears Damon whisper in the silence.

"I hope you're resting well, sweetheart."

His words cause the sheep to disintegrate, and Elena envisions a chunk of her armor disappear completely. She knows, on an intellectual level, that he'll probably manage to hack the ice around her heart with just his words.

It's not a comforting realization.

Damon doesn't stop from then on. "You know, I underestimated how painful it would be to see you this way. Thought it would be easy since I've done it myself, but you have no idea how I miss you right now. I miss you even with your self-sacrificing tendencies, and that's saying something."

At that, he succeeds in thawing even more of her frozen heart. Her mind goes into self-preservation mode, and still his sentences don't pause. His hold doesn't loosen either, and Elena now feels his bare chest pressed against her nose.

Exactly as his scent drowns her, his anguished voice sounds out again.

"I know that one day you'll come back to me, Elena, and it won't matter what you do before then. You can fucking massacre the world around us if you want to, as long as you come back. That's all I care about."

Elena doesn't dare move.

Already he's broken through so much of her armor. She wants him to stop crushing the walls she's built around herself - wants him to refrain from trying to save her. By her own count, she doesn't need saving - what she needs is the peace of being emotionless, so she wishes that he'd just stop.

But of course, Damon doesn't honor her wishes. He just barrels on, the words still pouring.

"I don't know if you even give a shit about me right now, but I want you to know that's okay. I'll go through hell and back for you. I mean, I've been doing that for God knows how long already. What's another decade or so, right?"

Elena stops pretending to be asleep, unable to keep any composure anymore. Deep inside her, she knows that the switch can't take much more of the resolute adoration he's been expressing.

"Damon, you need to stop," she says, infusing her words with as much detachment as she can muster. (It's not much.)

True to form, he disregards her completely.

"I'll never be able to stop loving you, Elena, so I'm gonna beg right now - please don't ask me to."

Those final words thaw her heart completely. Only two seconds later, Elena disintegrates into wracking sobs.

* * *

Elena thrashes and cries through the night, destitute and lost in her grief.

Her entire chest feels completely broken - crushed beneath the realization of how she's acted in the past few days. Though her stint with the switch was a short one, her essentially good nature ends up preventing her vampire side from obscuring the bad bits.

"I'm here baby, I'm here," Damon whispers, holding her tight. He devolves into a mixed paroxysm of surprise, a little sadness, and a great deal of relief, knowing her switch is back on. Desiring to comfort her, he lays dozens of gentle kisses on her hair, forehead, and face.

"God, the...the things I did and...and said...to Caroline and Stefan and...oh God, to you... Damon, I'm sorry..."

His response is half another kiss, and half a whisper. "It's alright, Elena, don't worry. We'll be okay."

At this point, Elena doesn't even care about the possible effects of the stupid sire bond, now back in existence. All that matters is the comfort Damon's providing, and the forgiveness he's extended. It's all that's significant to her.

Any sort of concern about the sire bond to her seems only petty in comparison.

Sinking deep into his embrace, she sobs out, "Jeremy...and the house...God, I burned down the house with him inside it..."

"You weren't yourself," he says, using the same words he uttered when he saved her from near-suicide.

"I can't just...dismiss what I...what I did, Damon!"

"You have to, Elena. You'll remember what you did, but you have to forgive yourself for it."

"How can I forgive myself? I burned down Jeremy!" she says, convalescing into wails and shaking uncontrollably.

He tightens his hold on her, absorbing some of her grief, even if only physically. Unceasing and relentless, he keeps whispering his love into her ear, ever the devoted Pyramus to his distraught Thisbe.

Testifying to his own fortitude, not once does he let her go, patiently enduring the agonizing sound of her cries.

Even with Stefan's quick arrival, the elder Salvatore refuses the offered help. Braving the pain and sharing Elena's grief, Damon takes on the sole duty of comforting his beloved, even after the morning sun starts filtering into his bedroom window.

* * *

**A/N** Thoughts? I was a little concerned I rushed her getting her humanity back, but in the end, I'm ultimately happy with this chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N **Boom, I'm back! Thanks for all your reviews, guys. I super appreciate your feedback, and I've used them to help shape this installment.

* * *

By noon, Elena's wailing subsides to occasional sniffles. Although it's clear that she's calmed down, Damon still prefers to keep her within the confines of his embrace. If he's honest with himself, Damon's missed being needed by her.

He's missed being held on to as her savior, missed being someone materially important in her life.

"Is there anything you want now?" he asks, breaking the silence that's settled over them. "Wanna go downstairs?"

Elena wipes her tears with the back of her hand. As a vampire, her eyes are not as puffy as they would have been otherwise, and for that she's grateful. "I don't think I wanna do that yet. Can I just stay up here with you? I'm so tired, Damon."

"You never have to ask if you can stay with me, Elena. Never."

He punctuates his words with a soft kiss to her forehead. At this point, he's honestly forgotten how many kisses he's given her, though of course, he was never counting. Still not letting go, he shifts slightly to grab his phone from the nightstand.

Stefan answers on the first ring. "What? Did something happen to Elena?"

"She's as fine as she can be right now, brother." Damon pulls in an exhausted breath. "Find me a witch, will you?"

"Why?"

"Tell you later. Just find me that witch, and put Blondie on the phone."

It's not long before Caroline's voice chirps in from the other line. "Why'd you ask for me?"

"I need an update on Bonnie. How crazy is she?"

He hears Caroline's sigh. "She's not at her best, Damon. I don't even know what's exactly wrong with her."

"Well, keep her from Elena then. I don't want anything stressing her, so you and the quarterback remain on Bennett duty until further notice. If anything notable comes up, tell Stefan, and he'll relay it to me."

At the end of that sentence, Damon hangs up and refocuses his attention on Elena. He sighs in relief that she's finally stopped her tears, even if she's still not speaking much. Damon still sees a trace of bleakness in her chocolate eyes, causing an idea to pop into his head. Above all things, he's determined to replace that bleakness with pure joy.

His voice carrying newfound enthusiasm, he carries her off the bed. "Time for us to get clean," he says, grinning.

"What do you mean?"

"Hygiene stops for no one, sweetheart." He gives her yet another kiss. "Not even a pair as attractive as we are."

Damon succeeds in getting Elena to laugh then, and he takes it as the first real cue that she's back.

Her emotionless version had a certain apathy in her laughter, which he's pleased to find missing at this point. So even though he doesn't really believe in God anymore, Damon casts his eyes up towards his ceiling. He has no idea if somebody's up there to hear, but he mutters a quick thanks anyway.

* * *

Relaxing in the tub with her back to Damon's chest, Elena tries to fight the growing need inside her.

She well knows that Damon is just seeking to comfort, though she can no longer discount the passion starting to color his kisses. Even his touches now have a trace of lust in them, his long fingers ghosting over her bare skin. Considering their sire bond, Elena's not quite sure if she should be doing this with him, though she's finding more and more reasons not to give a single shit.

"I'm sorry I'm being weak like this," he whispers, just a touch of pain in his voice. "But you're so beautiful, Elena, and I'll always want you."

Elena nods in understanding, and the downward motion causes Damon to latch onto the back of her neck. His teeth quickly figure into the equation, with him nipping on her shoulders and nape. His possessive hold keeps her pressed against him, the warm water rippling slightly around them.

Very soon, the only sounds in the bathroom are Elena's moans from his attention.

"Damon," she says, gripping onto his forearms. "If you don't stop, I don't think I'll be able to control myself."

The doubtful sentence pushes him to disengage, furiously trying to rein in his urges. It's a hard battle to fight, and thoughts of the sire bond flood his head quickly. Ever the efficient thinker, his attention soon rests on just one of his new hypotheses. He's aching to call Stefan and at least ask if the experiment could work, though it isn't really possible to get his brother at the moment.

With outside validation absent, Damon decides to go and test his guess out anyway.

"Hey Elena," he says, "scoot around so you're facing me straight."

She does as he asks, after a bit of maneuvering in his tub. "Why? What did you wanna try?"

"Well, I just came up with a possible experiment for the sire bond, and I want you to listen carefully. Whatever happens after this, I want you to have your freedom. I want you to be able to choose for yourself, without my influence. I want you to listen to me or follow me, only when you really want to do so yourself. And most of all, I want your will to stay under your control."

"Alright," she tells him, her eyes curious. "So now what?"

"Now slap me. As in really slap me."

Nothing happens despite his emphatic command, and hope begins to dawn in both their eyes. For good measure, Damon tries something else, infusing his words with as much determination and resolve as he can.

"I want you," he says, "to go back to my brother. Go on. Go back to him. Be with him again."

Her answer seals the correctness of his guess. "I don't want to go back to Stefan, Damon."

"Even if it's what I want?"

She smiles then. "Yep, even if that's what you want. I'm not going back to him. I'm staying with you."

"Fucking hell!" he says then. "Who knew the answer was this fucking easy? I just had to want your freedom and give it to you. Holy crap, Elena, you have no idea how happy I am. And to think, all the time we both wasted!"

Elena cradles his face, staring right at his eyes. Now it's her turn to lavish his face with soft kisses, which all end with a long one on his lips. "I can see your happiness, don't worry. You're even more handsome when you're this joyful."

"What can I say? I have you back, and I'm reasonably sure the sire bond problem is fixed. But to be sure, we'll check with a witch."

"Is that why you asked Stefan to find one?"

He nods, but then dismisses the subject. "Forget that. It's just details at this point. Do you want to tell me what you felt when the switch came on? I'd like to be able to help you process the stuff, and maybe help."

Elena does a trusting nod. "I felt like I was drowning. It was like being pushed deep into the ocean, all the while being pulled into that water by something at the bottom, too. But you helped me back to the surface, even when it felt like there wasn't any hope. For that I'm grateful, Damon."

A breathtaking smile forms on Elena's face then, and Damon feels heavy from the tenderness in her eyes. He feels completely tied to his spot, tethered by bonds he can't see. He knows the ties are made of their love, rooting him securely to his place with her.

It fills him with more emotion than he can express with words, so he defaults to using actions instead.

Pulling her to him, he takes his time with this next kiss. Damon's pace is leisurely now, born of the knowledge that the sire bond is inconsequential. Second by second, he infects her with his contentment, filling her with a joy she hasn't known in a long time.

"I love you so much," he pants against her skin, laving her neck with his lips and his tongue. Damon slightly doubts if the sex is prudent considering her recent ordeal, but her nails on his shoulders recapture his attention.

Even better, Elena's clearly intent on returning the favor of his attention, kissing his hair and then his lips, her ferocity matching his.

Moving to kiss his shoulder now, she whispers, "I love you too."

From there, their frantic movement causes water to start splashing down the tub's sides, just as Damon starts to align their bodies for what he knows is coming. As soon as Elena detects his intentions, her hand snakes under the water to grip his length firmly.

She moves her hand experimentally at first, before moving to the rhythm she knows he likes.

"I hope I'm doing it right, Mr. Salvatore," she says, just a hint of teasing in her voice.

"Oh yes you are," he says, frantically thrusting to meet her hand. "Fuck, sweetheart. You make me feel so good..."

Elena smiles at his compliment, hugging her to him with her free hand. "That's it, Damon. Let me thank you for taking care of me."

His response is a lazy, happy sigh, with him moving to rest his head against the side of her neck. Their faces pressed close now, Elena can hear Damon's breath coming in gasps, affirming her ability to give him the highest pleasure.

Still, not wanting things to end too early, Damon eventually stops Elena. This time, it's his hand that snakes underwater, his fingers ghosting over her center for the briefest moment. Giving her yet another leisurely kiss, he guides himself inside her at an agonizing pace.

The slowness coats the whole bathroom in lust and tension.

"Move, Damon," she says, fingers locking into his hair once he finally begins to thrust.

Despite the water starting t spill out of the tub in huge waves, neither Damon nor Elena seem perturbed by the chaos at all. In stark contrast, the two of them focus solely on the feeling of them being joined again, their lips meeting in a warm, wet kiss. For him, this joining is the culmination of a long wait. For her, it feels like coming home after many years in the wilderness.

"I'm dying inside you," Damon whispers, his voice soft and reverent. "Do you know how perfect you feel? It's fucking exquisite."

"Right back at you," she says, absorbing his pleasured groans through a kiss.

Eventually moving her lips to the curve of Damon's neck, Elena nips his wet skin with her blunt teeth. The sensation draws an outpour of happy sighs from his lips, causing him to speed up his movements from the stimulation.

At her own encouragement, he deigns to go in as far as he absolutely can, the added depth only seeming to please Elena all the more. Much like his sighs, her moans loudly cheer him on, ringing like bells calling for his action.

Never one to disappoint, he adds the skill of his lips to the mix, latching onto her breasts like a man long starved of food.

With all his enthusiastic suckling, the telltale ache begins in Damon's gums, followed by the appearance of veins under his eyes. The blue of his irises transform into the color of tar and moonless nighttime, prompting Elena's own change.

Her canines lengthen to match the emergence of his own, the tips of her fangs about three-fourths from her bottom lip.

Nearly exploding with lust now, both of them eschew their human sides in favor of succumbing fully to their instincts.

As Damon bites into Elena's wrist, her own fangs drive right into the side of his neck. It's not long before his thrusts grow almost violent, his surges filled with a power he's never shown her quite before. Too lost in his pleasure, he doesn't even notice the gouge of her nails into his shoulders, much less the rivulets of their blood that start to stain the bathtub's water.

To both, all that matters now is fulfillment, and the single-minded task of pleasuring each other as best they can. No longer is there any rhythm to their movement, only a jarring combination of thrusts and animalistic growling.

In the end, Damon lets go of Elena's wrist first, quickly meeting her bloodstained lips with his own.

Once their essences combine, a total release comes soon after, the likes of which they've never experienced before. The sheer force of the climax jolts them both into the abyss, ending their bout with lazy kisses and a few last thrusts from Damon.

Much too tired to do anything else, the two of them just hold each other, not even minding when the water grows cold.

* * *

"Did you see the water when we came out? It was like we cut someone's neck open in there. Kinda awesome, if you ask me."

Elena shakes her head at Damon's playful tone, as if it's entirely normal for them to turn bath water into a pool of blood.

"You're like a kid sometimes," she says, a grin on her face while gazing up at him.

"We're vampires," he whispers against her neck. "We're supposed to enjoy blood."

Elena concedes and goes silent, already distracted from his kisses on her neck anyway. Bearing a lazy smile, she revels in the feeling of being utterly secure, encased and protected by his weight resting above her. If she were human, his weight would have been uncomfortable long ago, though now it's barely a problem due to her vampirism.

Going by the same easy smile on his own face, Elena's sure that Damon doesn't mind their position as well. In fact, it's left their bodies conveniently aligned, just waiting for one of them to take advantage of the fact.

Surprisingly though, Damon's not the one to do it, soon rolling off of her to sit up on the bed.

"You know," he says, "Stefan and Blondie have been waiting downstairs since noon. By my estimate, it's about 3 pm already."

"Back up a second," she says, a certain glint in her eye. "Did I just hear you choose visitors over this bed and its possibilities?"

"I think I might regret it in the immediate future, but yes. I think it's time you talked with them. It will help you normalize sooner."

"If you say it'll help, I'll do it. But if things go south or I start crying, help me out, okay?"

His answer is barely above a whisper. "I'll always help you, sweetheart. Always."

* * *

**A/N **Did you guys like the lemon in your eye? Send me your thoughts, then see you in the next chapter!


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